When they got to the aquarium, Lei Lani was just ahead of them, opening the door on the restaurant side. Rafiel tried to remember whether they might have left it unlocked—whether they might—perhaps—have left via that entrance. He couldn't remember. Clearly, being concussed and dangling from a berserker dragon's jaws did something to the memory. But it didn't matter, he thought. After all, Dire might have left the door open, too.
She was in the process of opening the door as they came up behind her—wearing tracksuits and looking rather disheveled and, in Rafiel's case, limping, but seeming much more respectable than they'd been before. Tom, who had inhaled five burgers in the ten blocks here, even had a little color and seemed reasonably human. At least, Rafiel hoped so, because if he had looked tasty to Tom, then Lei must look positively tender.
Still, she turned and looked at them, seeming puzzled. "Oh, Officer Trall . . ." she said. "I . . . didn't expect to see you. I realized there was another report that I left behind."
Or perhaps another colleague to try to implicate. Or, Rafiel thought, not quite sure why, but catching something shifty about her eyes, a look of discomfort. Or perhaps you've decided it's too late to cover things up, and so are going to leave without a forwarding address.
He was fairly sure this last wasn't true. Not unless McKnight had been so clumsy in his prodding that she now knew, or suspected, that the police had found the lies about her background. McKnight? Incompetent? What are the odds? he thought, sarcastically, and barely suppressed a groan. A look at Tom revealed an expression so full of distress and a gaze desperately attempting to make several speeches, that Rafiel almost groaned again.
He wished he could mind-talk to Tom and inform him that, yes, yes, he had realized they needed to retrieve their things before Lei Lani found them. Meanwhile he would have to hope she didn't notice they were wearing identical stretch-shoes.
She didn't seem to. When he said, "I forgot my wallet," she merely gave him a wry look and said, "You seem to do that a lot."
Rafiel shrugged. "I drop it," he said. "I need bigger pockets or a briefcase or something. But then, if I had a briefcase, I'd probably leave it behind."
She smiled and didn't comment on that, and turned right, to go to the office. Rafiel turned the other way, towards the piranha room, his heart accelerating. The dire wolf would be there, right there, ready to jump out at him.
But the room was quiet and empty, except for the gurgling of the tanks and the sound the piranhas made swimming back and forth. Tom's clothes and boots were where he had left them, by the tank. Rafiel's were quite shredded, so he transferred his wallet and ID and cell phone from the shreds, then bundled them up.
He looked up to see Tom standing, holding his own clothes and the box for the cameras. "Here," he told Tom, thrusting his bloodied, shredded clothes at him. "Take this to the car, okay?"
He got raised eyebrows in response.
"I'm going to go ask Lei Lani for a date," Rafiel said.
"What?" Tom's voice came out louder than the half whisper in which they'd been speaking, like a small outburst of sudden indignation. "Excuse me?"
"Shhh." Rafiel said, gesturing down with his hand. "It's not what you think," he said, in a whisper.
"Isn't it? This is a heck of a time to work on your social life, Rafiel," Tom said, but he lowered his voice to a whisper as well.
"It's not my social life," Rafiel said. "It's . . . you know how . . ." He concentrated on listening for the slightest sound. His hearing was more acute than normal human, but he heard nothing. Not close enough for Lei Lani to hear. And yet, he didn't feel comfortable. He sighed. "Come to the car."
Tom shrugged and followed him to the car. Rafiel threw his shredded clothes in the back. Tom sat on the passenger side and started changing. Rafiel, his gaze sweeping the parking lot to make sure they were quite alone, explained. "I've been worried," he said. "About the camera and how all this was going to work."
Tom frowned at him. "Duh. Whoever it is brings a date there, and then the computer sounds the alarm, and then—duh—we catch her. Or him."
"No," Rafiel said, very patiently. He loved Tom like the brother he'd never had. Truly, he did. But elaborate plans were not the man's main strength. His greatest act of heroism had been on the spur of the moment. Most of what Tom did seemed to be on the spur of the moment. "Yeah, we will have footage of whatever happens. It's even possible we'll know who it is, and what they're doing. If they're shifters, we could go and kill them in cold blood, and stop the deaths. Of course, then we'll have Dire on our tails, but that's something else again. But . . . Tom, the poor sap who is brought here will die. There is no way we can get to him in time."
"Oh," Tom said. "Unless we're expecting it?"
"How can we be expecting it, if it's a stranger?" he said. "By the time the camera beeps, they'll already be in the aquarium. There is nothing we can do. Except collect the remains."
Tom frowned. "Damn. I hadn't thought that through. I don't think it's going to be that easy to sit there, waiting, you know, while . . . some poor sap . . . Damn, Rafiel, I don't even think I can do it. I mean, I know he'd probably die anyway, whether this is part of our trap or not. But I don't want to be . . . I'd feel like an accomplice."
"No, it wouldn't work," Rafiel said. "Which is why I'm going in there and ask Lei Lani for a date."
Tom frowned at him. "Because you think she's the murderer?"
Rafiel shrugged. "Not exactly. But I think there is a good chance she might be. I think it's quite possible she's a shark shifter. Which might or might not mean anything. I've also found she's never attended the University of Hawaii, at least not under this name." He shrugged. "All of it might have other, innocent explanations, and if this were a normal investigation, where I could share my suspicions with my colleagues, it wouldn't be the time for a desperate gamble. But it isn't a casual investigation—it's a life-and-death one. And . . . other people will die. Plus, Dire seems to have settled on me as the sacrificial victim for him to execute."
"Dire will just be furious," Tom said, "if we go after Lani and she's a shifter."
"I think Dire is furious now. There is one thing I know we can't do, Tom, and that's face Dire, the triads and the aquarium murderer all at the same time. For the last week I've walked on eggshells, afraid one or the other of those are about to give us away. I can't go on like that. Let's start taking the enemies down one at a time. The aquarium murderer, at least until further notice, is not more powerful than us, so let's take that one on first. Then we'll figure out some way to get Dire. And then the triads . . ." He shrugged. "Perhaps they'll just go away."
"Fat chance," Tom said.
Rafiel shrugged again. "One at a time. So, I'm going in and asking Ms. Lani out."
"But . . . like that?" Tom asked. "You are all bruised, have two big gashes on the back of your neck, and you probably broke your ankle."
Rafiel shrugged. "So, I tell her I got in a fight in the course of duty. You know there is little that a woman loves better than a hero."
Tom stared at him for a long time, then sighed and shook his head. "The worst part, Mr. Hero, is that you'll probably pull it off."
Rafiel gave him a feline grin. "Of course I will."